SERMONS
AND REFLECTIONS
A
Reflection on 1 Samuel 7
Jackie
Ammerman
October 13, 1997
Again
this year, I am leading an adult Bible study group in church school at
First Baptist Church. This summer, I became fascinated with the Samuel
narratives. So in the Bible study group, we have begun exploring 1
Samuel. [If it has been awhile since you have read 1 Samuel, I
encourage you to read it again, or perhaps for the first time. There
are some wonderful stories that we rarely encounter.]
In
launching into this material, I have to confess I’m encountering an
image of God that is not entirely consistent with the one with which I
am most comfortable. In Chapter one, God makes possible the birth of
Samuel to Hannah, a woman unable to bear children. I want to know how
God did that? In Chapter three, God actually seems to talk to Samuel.
When was the last time you heard voices and didn’t think you were
going crazy? In Chapter four, God is captured by the Philistines. What
kind of God allows himself to be captured? In Chapter five, God knocks
over the Philistine god, Dagon, not once, but twice. God causes
"tumors" to grow on the Philistines. Is that nice? And in
Chapter 6, God drives a wagon pulled by two innocent cows back to
Israel; Cows who choose the life of self-sacrifice rather than staying
back at the barn to nurse their calves. I’ve seen the bumper
stickers "God is my co-pilot," but going solo?
And
in the chapter we read this morning, Israel pleads with Samuel to cry
out to God to save them from the Philistines and God does. God created
a huge thunderous roar that scared the Philistines out of their wits,
allowing the men of Israel an opportunity to overpower them.
"Does
God so directly answer prayer?"
"Can the thunder of Yahweh be so intimately related to Israel’s
petition?"
"May Israel so blatantly pray against its enemies?" (Brueggemann,
p52)
We
can’t ignore these questions. And, at least on the surface, it seems
one would have to answer "YES" to all three. This is
certainly not consistent with the modern, highly rational, concept of
God that views (or perhaps limits) God’s activity to that which can
be accomplished through human agents. Only last week I heard
proclaimed from the pulpit that "God has no hands but ours."
But here God uses thunder! And it isn’t even amplified through an
surround-sound stereo amplification system.
Does
God really play an active role in the events of our world?
Hannah’s
song of praise portrays God as a God that both has the power to
transform and the willingness to intervene. Without power, all of the
compassion, all of the concern, all of the good will would be useless.
But in Samuel, God is portrayed as powerful. Powerful enough to
provide birth in the midst of barrenness and barrenness in the midst
of fertility. Powerful enough to provide food for the hungry and
hunger for those with food. Powerful enough to provide victory for the
weak and defeat for the powerful. God is indeed a powerful God.
But
power would be of no value if there was not willingness to intervene.
And here is the crux of the matter. God is willing to intervene. But
the interventions are not simply whimsical interventions. Nor are they
merely displays of power. They are inversions of the world order. They
are interventions to make right what is wrong, to replace injustice
with
justice.
Why
would God side with Israel? Israel was a loose federation of primarily
agrarian tribes. They were threatened, indeed oppressed by the
Philistines, a highly trained military aristocracy. The Philistines
held a monopoly on iron, so their weapons were superior. Israel lived
in constant danger. God chose to intervene. To invert the balance of
power. To bring justice where there was no justice.
So
Samuel has called the people to Mizpah. There he is judging. He is
guiding Israel to live according to God’s ethic. And the Philistines
show up to break up the party. So Israel pleads to God, Samuel cries
out. And God saves. A great inversion of power. The weak are
triumphant over the powerful. God who is both powerful and willing to
intervene establishes justice in the land.
And
the last few verses are indeed telling. Peace reigns in the land.
Samuel judges the people. And God does not intervene. The purpose of
God’s intervention is to create inversions of power, to restore
justice, not to micro-manage the affairs of the people.
Does
God really play an active role in the events of our world? When I
posed the question to the Bible Study group yesterday, there was a
quick response that was essentially a dismissal of the Samuel
narratives as an incomplete understanding of God by a more primitive
people. Progressive revelation alleviates a lot of discomfort. I have
to confess, I’m not significantly more comfortable with the thought
of God intervening in the affairs of this world than I was before. But
I’m finding myself less anxious to try to rationalize away my
discomfort.
Samuel
called the people to re-affirm their covenantal relationship with God.
Placing trust in God rather than in their own power. Israel is to have
a single heart, devoted only to God. The idea that God hears the
prayers of the people and acts to give new life and new possibility is
fundamental to this trust, to this loyalty. To explain it away is to
deny the very essence of this covenantal relationship that transformed
this people called Israel.
It
is still hard for me to see God intervening in our world. The Samuel
narrative suggests that if I am to see it, I should be looking at the
marginalized, the oppressed. The powerful don’t relay on
"thunder " to scare their enemies. But when I look at the
injustices of this world, it is hard to see any hope. It is hard to
envision things being different. It is hard to envision new
possibilities. Perhaps I am like Hannah before the birth of Samuel.
Perhaps I am like Israel before the Philistines. There is much
despair, much hopelessness. If God really does intervene in this
world, I trust that it will be to bring about a major inversion of
power, to restore justice where there is none. To give new life where
there is only hopelessness. And perhaps in the process my own
discomfort will be replaced with joy.
Walter
Brueggemann's First and Second Samuel (Louisville, John Knox
Press, 1990.) was helpful in preparing this sermon.
